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@melwaverly.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 8:05 AM

From WIP1 - These Words Remain Unsaid

Just like magic

#WIPSnips #QueerWriters #WritingPrompts #ATWRU #SapphicWriters #sapphicauthors #WriteSky #Sapphic

Julie arrived just before nine with two cups of coffee and a tired smile. She handed one to Izzy and then stared incredulously at the handwritten directions and fuzzy map printout. "Hey, so why don't we use my GPS? I brought it from LA" "I've never used one before," Izzy admitted. "It's easy," Julie said, already retrieving it from the car. "You punch in the destination, and it tells you where to go. Like magic---except bossier." Mel Waverly - These Words Remain Unsaid, chapter 35
@jonsparksauthor.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 8:02 AM

#WIPSnips 10/10: #WIPSnips are from The Skilthorn Inheritance, Book 9 of The Shattered Moon.
There is just one instance of ‘fuzzy’, and it’s in the penultimate paragraph of the book (and of the entire series).
#books #writing #WriteSky #writingcommunity

She thought of the phrase Gafeira had offered: restless contentment. And she thought of a girl, even younger than Gafeira, a girl who would float in a pool in the forest and contemplate mysteries like why do sticks float and stones sink? And, too, a girl who would lie in the heather on Wisket Moss and gaze at the sky; a girl who had worked out for herself that there was a difference between stars and planets; a girl who had seen a fuzzy patch that was not a wisp of cloud, and wondered. Fifty years on, and more, she had seen it in vastly more detail, and yet she had even more questions.
@wellandbooks.comOct 10, 2026, 7:44 AM

This is from a short story set on the Costa del Sol called, "Death in the Afternoon - about teatime".

#WIPSnips #IndieAuthor #WritingCommunity

Text excerpt from The Book Abattoir describing Alba’s friends discussing Gordon McManus, an alleged Edinburgh gang boss, and Alba’s fearsome mother-in-law, Doña Dolores, nicknamed La Dragona. Naomi later searches online for McManus and finds a Spanish news report and a photograph of the red-haired, middle-aged man.
@ewanstone.ukOct 10, 2026, 7:38 AM

#fuzzy from Far Worlds, Book Three of the Lonely Ship Saga.

'Fuzzy' is without a doubt Fei, a feline alien from a sort of space Bermuda Triangle. She's very touch-y!

(Read Lonely Ship here! ewanstone.uk/110-2/)

#writingcommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPsnips #spaceopera #erotica #nsfw

Marcus found his way into her hair with his hand and stroked her tenderly. Fei made a pleased humming sound without realising she was doing it, and when her ears flicked playfully from the sensation of his touch, she knew she was tickling his chin with their fuzzy tips.“So, um, Fei?” said Marcus. His voice was muffled by her ears. “What did you want to talk about?”Confused, she pulled away so she could stare up into his eyes. His breath wisped against her face. “Talk?”“You said you wanted to talk, right?” he asked. “Up on the bridge?”“Hmm?” she said with a tilt of her head. “I did?”“Yeah.”“Oh. Um, then…”There was only one thing she felt the need to tell him, so she did, setting her brow fiercely and scowling up at him.“Too many girls, Marcus. You have enough, so stop finding more girls.”He stared, his lips parted. Cute. “Okay.”
@jangoeswriting.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 7:10 AM

From: ‘With Sword and Hunger’
Prompt: ‘Fuzzy’

#WiPSnips

He probably deserved the pounding head, though, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why. Stirring on the bed, noting the brightness beyond his closed eyes, Manes started to sit up, to roll out of bed and reach for the pot underneath, only for a hand to press against his chest, easing him back down to a bed that would once have smelled of warm hair and honeysuckle. Those days were long gone, now, but he still only slept on one side. Despite the throbbing in his head, he opened his eyes to see the sunlight cascading through the open shutters of the window and groaned again. Near half a day gone and he’d laid his sorry backside in bed. That was the drink. He’d swore off booze for Nekane, but she wasn’t around and it hurt less with a good belly full. Different kind of hurt. The pain in his jaw, however. That wasn’t down to drink and the peach fuzz in his mind began to fade away. “Gods damn it.” He smacked his lips, looking to the cabinet beside the bed. “Fetch your Pa some water, son.” “The boy is doing his chores.” Only now did Manes notice the soft clicking at the other side of the bed.
@samuelclark3.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:53 AM

#WIPSnips #GelmirStories

www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HL5PZ9YR

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@peterrobin.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:43 AM

#WIPSnips October 10 "fuzzy" (hazy)

From Australian of the Year

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The orderlies failed in their attempt to corner the lizard, which deftly ran around them and out the door, the two men in fast pursuit. The doctor completed her checkup and left. Gary found his phone on the bedside table and typed in a message to Scott: “It was all a bit hazy last night. I'm not sure what hospital I'm in, or even which town. I've a shrewd notion it's the Franz Kafka Memorial but I'll ask and let you know. If you can make it, please come and see me before I turn into a giant bug. If you can't get in, ask a lizard. They'll know.” The message came back almost straight away: “Look up!” Gary looked up and saw that Scott was in the doorway. “That was quick,” said Gary. Scott chuckled. “I never left. If anyone asks, I'm your brother. I didn't think they'd let me stay if I wasn't family.”
@thatvoidauthor.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:31 AM

We're going to say that the warm, thick comforter counts as fuzzy.

This scene is immediately post-rescue, and Hannah is not okay.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

Jackie opened the door, held open her arms, and Hannah collapsed into them on a sob. She felt her nod at Ed, and the door closed, leaving them alone. Ed had told her on the ride that Rina was back, had given her a brief overview of what was going on, but she must still be busy with Taroki. He’d also offered to let her drive, which earned him serious points, but she was too shaky. So she’d held on to him and let his voice in her helmet calm her. What he hadn’t brought with was food, although the water tube from the bike’s hold was a welcome relief. Jackie would feed her, when she was ready. She wasn’t ready yet. Jackie bundled her through to the bedroom Hannah used on the rare occasion—these days—that she stayed over. Tucked her into bed, which Hannah acknowledged could have felt problematic, except that this soft, comfortable mattress with its warm, thick comforter was about as far as it was possible to be from that room. Jackie curled up next to her, wrapping an arm around her and laying her head on Hannah’s. She could feel silent tears soaking into her hair. “I’m okay, Jax.” The words were a whisper that even she didn’t believe. Jackie said nothing and stroked her head, like she’d done when Hannah had finally broken and told her about her parents. And because it was Jackie, because it was safe, because she needed to exorcise her demons… the whole sordid fucking tale came tumbling out. Every depraved comment and desperate fear. Jackie held on tight and rocked her. Kissing her head and sniffling. “Oh, my love. My brave, brave girl.” Void, she was exhausted. “I think I need to sleep. Will you stay?” “I’m not going anywhere.” Okay. Good. She closed her eyes, listened to Jackie’s heartbeat. And finally—finally—slept.
@asteyni.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:15 AM

I don't have fuzzy in my story, but I think we can go with synonyms and vibes. And the vibes here are leaning "hazy/unclear".

From my sci-fi conspiracy story that will eventually have a title. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

"Not incorrect, but lacking detail." Abbari leaned back in her seat. "Nereus entered a protracted... well, let's call it what it was, a war between the colonists and the corporations who initially funded the colonization efforts. This followed the discovery of nerephite. It's a bit more politically complex than that, but that will suffice for background." "So how do genetics, or genopathy, come into play?"
@jmweaverauthor.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:15 AM

#WIPSnips

In this snip from Savage as You, Hailey is met with the greatest obstacle imaginable: she meets a dog.

Isaiah led us into his house and its semblance of middle-class perfection. Idyllic Christian family, tons of photos together in grotesque matching outfits, pictures of White Jesus, crosses, framed quotations saying things like, ‘Lord Bless this House’. Wait, is that a giant heckin’ Golden Retriever? “Oh, dear sweet lord, she found a dog,” Rella complained. “Look-its-fur-but-also-dog-face-and-tail-OH-MY-GOD-he’s-all-waggy-and‍—‍” OK, spent a while with the dog, not gonna lie. Got a little sidetracked. What year is it? “Where’s Cooper?” I eventually asked Isaiah’s sister, now downstairs watching Netflix. “Oh, your loser friends? They’re all upstairs.” “How long have I been playing with this dog?” I wondered aloud. “Oh, her name’s Skippy and‍—‍” “Oh-my-God-Skippy-are-you-made-of-peanut-butter-I-could-just-eat-you-om-nom-nom‍—‍” OK, spent more time with the dog, being completely transparent. She’s really fuzzy and always smiley and I want to adopt TEN. “Hailey, what in God’s name are you doing?” Rella asked from upstairs. “Her name’s Skippy,” I told Rella, rubbing Skippy’s belly, tears forming in my eyes for some reason. I used my wrist to wipe them. “Oh God, why am I crying?” “Can you please get this weirdo away from me?” Isaiah’s sister begged Rella. Rella hopped downstairs and grabbed my arm like I was an inept child falling behind. “But Skippy!” I said, being pulled away. She’s following me! “Oh-my-God-she-wants-to-be-my-friend!” “Ew, why are you crying?” Rella asked. “I don’t know! ” I sobbed.
@shaenon.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 6:11 AM

#WIPSnips

Cameras, including TV cameras, rose to attention as speakers lined up at the counter. “This is it,” said Carcosa. “On my signal, Bart.” An oldish but not extremely old woman got up and blew bubbles. The room erupted into cheers. Id gasped. “It’s the bubble lady! She came back for the last day! Hi, bubble lady! I’ll see you in the future! Also in the past but you already saw me then!” The bubble lady waved back. “I look forward and backward to it,” she called. A younger woman, maybe a student, took the mic. She launched into an operatic aria. “Handel,” said Bart, nodding. “Always a pleasure to have a little culture in a Western town.” “We shouldn’t dawdle,” said Carcosa. “Last time we came here, this place got raided.” The painted looked around his easel. “You were here for anarchist trivia night, too? Or was it the day the bookstore across the street got firebombed?” “Nah, it was back in Beat times,” said Id. “The fuzz were chasing a jive tip.”
@nickpwilford.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:54 AM

The standoff between Sassia and her other-world counterpart comes to a perilous finale. #WIPSnips #amwriting #WriteSky #writingcommunity

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@rhysackhurst.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:46 AM

NSFW inferred here, but nothing remotely explicit.

#WIPSnips #WritingPrompts #VeilOfStarlight

Sorrel smiled dumbly up at the roof of his tent. Only one side of his vision was clear, the other was fuzzy. But that didn't matter. He would have gladly gone blind for that. Permanent eye damage wasn't new to him anyway. Lu's face came mostly into view with a proud, crooked grin. He fixed Sorrel's glasses (his vision came back fully into focus) before softly kissing him several times, cradling his face with his palm.
@norashear.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:45 AM

Today's #WIPSnips is "fuzz" instead of "fuzzy"

In which Paige is slowly figuring out who's kidnapped her.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

A dark image with white text that reads: For a moment, she could have sworn she heard their heartbeats, the breath whistling in their lungs. Then her own thudding heart overrode whatever noise had deceived her. The group stared at her, then someone with watery blue eyes, pasty skin and graying hair raised an eyebrow. "Even awake, she don't look like much." Another with lanky dark brown hair and sallow skin snickered. "Can't imagine why anyone'd want a girl who looks like the back of a toilet." Paige's head felt like it was floating away, miles away from her body. Dammit. I can't let these goons get the best of me. She bit the inside of her lip hard, hoping the pain would clear her mind. As she grimaced, the fuzz in her mind finally starting to clear, the goateed goon with brown eyes sighed. "Who are we to say otherwise? The ways of Her Holiest aren't for us to know." The goon pointed at the one with the graying hair. "Now go get him." The graying goon spit on the floor, then skulked out the door. - From NO SKY LIKE MIDNIGHT, by Nora Shear The word "fuzz" is in bold pink text. There are star decorations in each corner and a meteor decoration above the text.
@saranadosfiction.comOct 10, 2026, 5:35 AM

#WIPSnips | fuzzy

That I don't have, so going for a synonym with 'blurry' as poor Fest tries to untangle the mess of secrets he's found himself in the middle of (also apologies for not as much interaction over the last few days - currently at Fantasycon)

( saranadosfiction.com/2024/03/05/s... )

One moment he’d been sat at his desk, trying to put together the pieces of whatever the Sinnlenst were up to (and wishing quietly that he’d actually had the courage to speak up and ask the others for more information, because they clearly had more of the shape of the puzzle than he did), and the next he’d been blinking back to blurry consciousness with his head pillowed on his open notebook and his pen clogged with long-dried ink. He’d also apparently fallen asleep before he stopped writing, if the mess of scribbles on the page was anything to go by – his handwriting wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t usually completely unreadable. *Not that it’d be much use even if I could read it. I’m missing too many steps for any of this to add up properly.* And too many memories, which was the other half of the problem. *If I could remember what happened to me the night that I broke my neck, that’d be a start.* Except that if he did get the memory of those missing hours back, then he’d also find out what had happened to the person he’d apparently drunk from. *Archer said that there wasn’t enough blood for me to have actually exsanguinated anyone. And he wouldn’t lie about that… would he?* Except that he’d lied about Fest being a sorcerer. Or, at least, known he was one and deliberately not told him, which was practically lying by omission. And Sabbat had said that he’d made a habit of that, and of thinking that he knew what was best for people. *And if I had a half-hysterical student panicking at me and wanting reassurance that they’d not just murdered someone, I’d probably tell them they hadn’t whether I thought they had or not, especially if they couldn’t remember anything.*
@bumblebigirl.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:35 AM

#WIPSnips "Fuzzy" (using hazy instead).

Something is happening to Todd

I get up off the bed. “Todd, who are you talking about? What button?” “I can’t tell you,” he says. “But it’ll make everything better.” “Better how? Todd, who have you been talking to? You need to tell me, this is serious.” He steps back, shaking his head. “You need to go. You need to go now.” “I promise you, whatever this is, it’s not going to help!” “Go! Please!” He’s sweating, eyes bulging. Is he sick? “Tell me what’s wrong—!” I start. But he’s staring at his hands and, after a second, so am I. They’re glowing. They’re definitely glowing. A faint, ghostly shimmer surrounding them, like a fairy in a Disney film. It plays around him, hazy and hard to focus on. There’s something comforting about it. Like it’s holding him. And then the glow leaves Todd, floating out into the air, hand-shaped bubbles of light. I watch, transfixed, as the rest of his body follows suit. It comes away from him like a snake shedding its skin. “What is that?” I ask, not really sure what answer I could possibly get. Todd certainly doesn’t look like he knows. Actually he looks like he’s in some kind of pain. “Sorry,” he says, though I can’t tell what for. There’s a flash of light, brighter than anything I’ve seen in my life. The air itself seems to have caught fire. I throw up my hand to shield my eyes and fall back onto the bed.
@starbuds-and-roses.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:26 AM

many choices for today, but this one was dearest to my heart this morning. . .
#WIPSnips #WriteSky

a screenshot of several paragraphs of text, the word “fuzzy” digitally underlined in orange. it reads: He felt the ache in his chest twinge, but couldn't find it within himself to cry any more. Bazyli returned just when he settled on a blemish on the wall—far too quickly for the kettle to be hot to the touch. Cecyl didn't move, even when Bazyli's fingertips brushed his shoulder; if anything, only curling into himself the tiniest bit further. "May I?" Cecyl nodded. Not noticing the fuzzy knit blanket in Bazyli's arms before it was being draped over his shoulders, too. So warm it must've been on the chair nearest to the fireplace. Finally, Cecyl met his gaze, those grey eyes so delicate and round, almost shimmering in the candlelight. A grin played at the corners of Bazyli's lips—quiet, subtle, soft. "Do you still want an ungodly amount of honey in your tea?" he whispered. Although hardly more than a slight change in breath, Cecyl chuckled, and nodded. "Sometimes I wonder if you drink it that way just to appall me."
@amandabryana.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:19 AM

A section of Damon's first day with Gabriel as houseguest/live in mentee. Gabriel has no confidence, few life skills, and little experience of taking care of himself. Damon's aim is to change that. No more. No less.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity

The final stop for the day was the supermarket. Gabriel was clearly a little overwhelmed, so I guessed it had been a while since he’d food shopped. He also had no idea what he wanted to eat. ‘Can you cook?’ ‘If you like jacket potatoes or things with instructions on the packet, yes. If not, no. I’m great at instant noodles.’ ‘Ok, we’ll add teaching you to cook to the list.’ ‘You don’t have to.’ ‘Yes, I do. Cooking is a life skill, and you are with me to acquire life skills. Make sure you talk about food when you’re working on things you like. I’ll teach you to cook your favourites.’ ‘Would you teach me to cook your favourites please?’ ‘If you want me to, yes. Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, and perfectly cooked vegetables, with rich meaty gravy. That’s my favourite.’ ‘That sounds amazing. I haven’t had a roast for years.’ ‘That’s settled then. Roast beef tomorrow. I’ll show you how to do everything. Don’t worry, you don’t have to remember it all the first time.’ The idea of cooking for him made me feel warm and fuzzy. Too warm and fuzzy. I knew the signs of my demise. ‘Could we pick up a couple of notebooks and some pens please? I’ve got lots of notes to take.’ ‘Yep. Well remembered.’ I had to encourage him to select snacks and drinks he liked. When it became clear he was trying to pick only one or two cheap items, I chucked half a dozen of the liked but rejected choices in too. A decent razor, and some quality toiletries including three different bubble baths, completed the shop. When we got home, I made pasta and meatballs and we started packing away my dungeon. There was no rush to get the new room up and running, it’s not like I was planning to have a sex life while Gabriel was under my roof.
@ralanr.bsky.socialOct 10, 2026, 5:18 AM

Jacques isn't normally absented minded. Something's off with him. Something's off with the circus.

#WIPSnips

<White background, black text> Jacques snapped his fingers three times. “It’s fuzzy. I was talking with her, and Quinn interrupted. He has a habit of doing that, right?” “He does.” Jarek nodded, “But what about Giselle?” “What about her?” The only thing stopping him from shaking Jacques by the shoulder, apart from the size difference, was Jarek’s empathy against being touched. He balled his fists and whipped his tail against the dirt. “Where is she?” Through twists and turns Jacques led him to another tent no different than the one he’d just come from. Inside sat women in a sewing circle. None turned their heads when he entered. None seemed interested in anything other than the task at hand. He watched for a minute to understand what they were working on. A large scarf? A blanket? He shook the question off when he spotted Giselle. “Giselle,” he said. If she heard him she didn’t show it. Careful not to disturb anyone, Jarek tip-toed closer and spoke quietly behind her. “Giselle?” He asked. She didn’t answer. Was she still mad? King Andur had a two-part story about Lady Juine not talking to him because he made her mad. How did that story end? he thought, recalling the long-winded speech Andur made on his knees about his ever-so-intelligent queen being right and needing to be listened to.